Dear past self,
Congratulations! You’re finally doing it. That big-ticket bucket list item. That thing your parents told you that you couldn’t do (because they were worried about their 20 year old driving the distance with other 20 year olds in the dead of winter). That thing you’ve wanted to do since college, when you, an East Coast gal, chose to study a semester abroad in Los Angeles: You’re driving cross country.
Sure, that trip got delayed. And you’ve never anticipated doing it during a pandemic. With your parents. Or with your dog (Yes, you have a dog now. His name is Jack.)
But you’re going to be driving cross country for the very first time. You’re moving to the West Coast without a designated return date.
And you have a lot to learn. Here’s what you should have done differently and what you did right:
No. 1: Get your car checked out before your road trip.
You once got stranded in Toronto because your car broke down in the middle of the highway because you’ve been ignoring a check light for months and thought it’d be OK. You spent weeks without your car.
You’ve learned your lesson and spent a lot of money for peace of mind.
Get that inspection.
Fix your brakes.
Get new tires.
Get that oil change.
Buy that warranty.
You don’t want to be stranded again.
And learn how to change a flat tire.
No. 2: Have backups.
There will be rural stretches of Americana (this was Wyoming for you) when you lose all cell service. You will get lost and extremely caffeinated, wondering if you’re still going the right way.
There will be instances when you forget to charge that iPod classic that holds your entire music library and you have nothing but silence to fuel your drive.
Plan accordingly. And have backups for your backups.
Download offline maps in advance.
Print your maps.
Bring another GPS.
Download music and podcasts on your iPhone in advance.
Bring CDs.
Your mental sanity will thank you.
No. 3: Pack food.
You packed your mom, who packed food. She was the one who bought the canned goods and rice to cook in the rice cooker. She was the one who cooked meals at the hotel room before falling asleep each night. She was the one who made sure you didn’t starve. You should tell your parents that you love them more often.
There will be long stretches of South Dakota and Montana where there are no restaurants or gas stations. Make sure you get food and gas when you’re in the bigger cities because options may be limited to nonexistent elsewhere, where all you see are cows.
No. 4: Take more time.
If you could have had a mulligan, you would have taken more time. Is it possible to drive 2,500+ miles in four days? Yes. You’re living proof. But would the cross country road trip been a lot less stressful if you hadn’t budgeted 10 to 13 hours of driving time alone each day. Yes.
You wouldn’t be blinking away sleep while circling the slopes and S-curves; your circadian rhythm telling you it’s way past your bed time. You wouldn’t have hours to go between time zones in pitch-black pouring rain — racing to the hotel, hoping they did late night/early morning check-ins way past the prescribed check-in time (Spoiler alert: They did.)
You will survive this. But you will wish your plans factored in stops for food, gas, bathroom, breaks and construction. You wish your plans factored time to get lost and find your way.
Driving time will always be much more than the Google maps estimates.
And you’ll question:
No. 5: Did you need to book all your stays ahead of time?
You did. Should you do that again?
Good question.
In the pro column: You’re very deadline-oriented and you liked knowing how far you had to go each day. That you had a bed at the end of the night. That the place you’re staying at would admit you and your dog.
But deadlines can be stressful.
In the con column: You wondered whether your trip would have been more leisurely if you didn’t make bookings months in advance. If you took that route, you wouldn’t have had to drive so far off the highway each night to get to where you were staying. You could have actually slept when you got tired vs. close your eyes in that rigid upright position that won’t let your mind rest. There are hotels just off the highway beckoning you.
But would you get a room? Will you roll that dice?
If you did book everything in advance again: Plan the stops an even eight hours of straight driving time apart.
And you should:
No. 6: Bring a friend.
Someone who can drive and navigate and download a GasBuddy app. Someone who you can have actual conversations with. (Your dog and podcasts and audiobooks don’t count). The fact that your dad could take over the wheel at any time saved you. You should tell your parents that you love them more often.
No. 7: Always remember to charge your devices when you can.
Hey sleepyhead, charge your phone and iPod. Yes, we know you can barely keep your eyes open. But your later self will thank you.
No. 8: Don’t move everything you own with you in your car.
Sure, you might have saved a little money. But you had to babysit all your valuables. And you unpacked and re-packed the car each night, checking into hotel rooms like you were ready to move in.
The car ride was extremely uncomfortable. To the point where no one could move. You were surprised the dog willingly decided to get in the car with you and all the scary boxes and luggage.
But he did and he made the cutest bellhop.
Shipping your stuff might have allowed you to …
No. 9: Plan the adventure of a lifetime.
How many times do you get to move cross country by car in a lifetime? When will you accumulate enough vacation time to visit the Badlands, stop at Mount Rushmore or sleep in Yellowstone ever again?
(The Magic 8-Ball says: Ask again later.)
If your vehicle wasn’t full of stuff, maybe you could have visited friends, stopped in a bunch of national parks and crossed off a few more bucket list items along the way.
No. 10: Invest in camera equipment.
Did you buy that Go Pro you’ve wanted for years?
No.
Should you?
Yes.
You drove 2,500+ miles, but you were the one driving for most of it so you don’t have a record of the sunrises and sunsets and the cities and states in between.
Promise yourself that you’ll document your next road trip.
And edit a time lapse.
You want to produce a piece like this some day.
Queued this quarter:
“Salt-and-pepper” hair, “liquid half-melted chocolate bar” colored eyes and the jawline of a “high school quarterback who’s about to win state.” Everything about this profile is so good. (Yes, it’s about a dog)
If you’re in need of some serious serotonin, NPR’s got you. Bookmark this for a rainy day
This letter to mom & dad will give you all the feels
A tiny TikTok time capsule into my life right now (it’s scary how well TikTok’s algo knows me)
Living the “Twilight Zone”/”Black Mirror” episode where the internet won’t let you forget
The millennial-furiously-typing-with-her-boss-about-working-through-PTO TikTok meme but in newsletter form
Another reminder that it’s OK to divorce work from identity